Yours Cruelly (Paper Cuts #2), page 15
“What does it look like?” He answers, then he turns to the wall. “You want this big, fat cock, Stassi?”
“Oh my God. I can’t with you. I’m leaving.” I head for the door. Sometimes it’s hard to believe he’s a big, mature doctor who saves lives for a living and not a perpetual frat boy.
Alec doesn’t stop. And the funny thing is, neither do Mad and Joe. They’re completely oblivious, which means they’ll keep going at it, even when I’m back in my apartment, and it’ll be even worse, because I’ll be alone.
I groan and slump against the wall. “Guess I won’t be getting any sleep tonight. Again.”
He stops banging on the wall and turns to me.
“Also, for the record, you do not have a big, fat cock,” I tell him. “And I would never beg for it.”
He looks down at himself. “No? You sure about that?”
I nod, straightening my shoulders. “I’ve never been surer of anything in my life.”
“In that case.” He motions to the television set. “You’re welcome to watch a movie here. I’ll turn it up loud so we’ll drown them out.”
Skeptical, I check out the arrangement. I’ll have to sit on his mattress, which can be all sorts of dangerous. But at least I won’t be alone. My lips twist. “You’ll keep your not-so-big, fat cock to yourself?”
Alec smirks. “It’s big and fat and you know it. But if you insist.”
I look at the television. “What movie?”
“Whatever you want. I’ll let you choose. We can even watch a Denzel movie if you want.”
Weighing my options, I decide staying here and watching a movie is the lesser of two evils, so I sink down onto the very edge of the mattress, sitting primly, like it’ll swallow me up if I get comfortable. “Fine. But only if we’re watching The Princess Bride.”
“A classic.” He sits down next to me. I used to watch this movie religiously as a kid and he’d always give me crap for it, but to this day, it’s my go-to comfort watch. And I could use a bit of comfort these days.
I find it on Netflix, and I turn up the volume almost to the max which mostly drowns out the sounds next door. We haven’t even gotten to the Farm Boy part when he says something.
“What?” I ask.
He takes the remote, lowers the volume, and motions to the wall. “They’ve stopped.”
“Oh.” I start to get up.
“Wait. Where you going?” He’s lying on his side on the mattress, pillow under his head. I can’t deny he looks good in his t-shirt and jeans, barefooted and casual. “Let’s finish it.”
I’ve never been able to tear myself away from this movie. I take off my shoes and slowly inch back on the mattress so my back is against the wall for support, and I keep my arms and hands close to my body, as if I’m about to board a dangerous rollercoaster.
“You don’t have to look like it’s a death sentence, you know,” he says as he observes me.
“What do you mean?” I glue my eyes to the television. “I’m fine.”
But every part of me is prickling with heat, thinking about what we did on this bed. Why couldn’t it have been anyone else but him? If it’d have been some random hot guy I met on the app, I’d have no problem casually hooking up. But casual isn’t a word that will ever belong in the same sentence as Alec Mansfield.
“Are you though?” He reverses direction, getting onto his knees to look into my eyes. “You look uncomfortable.”
“I said I’m fine,” I over enunciate my response. But as I attempt to focus on the movie, I can’t help but notice him watching me instead of the screen. “Hello? Eyes that way.”
“What if I just want to look at you?”
I give him a look. “Don’t make this weird.”
He grins. “I’m not making it weird. You’re overthinking it.”
“I’m overthinking the fact that you’re staring at me instead of the movie we’re supposed to be watching?”
“Basically.”
I roll my eyes. “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why are you looking at me?”
“Because I can.” He rolls to his side and props his head on his hand. “And because every time I’m near you, I can’t take my eyes off of you.”
I roll my eyes again, this time so hard it hurts. “You really think that’s going to work on me?”
“I have no idea what works on you at this point. I’m just being honest.”
I want to believe him, but knowing the kind of person he used to be, the number of times he fooled me, I’m hesitant.
“I think I should go,” I say again, and this time, I really mean it.
“What if I asked you to stay.”
“What if I told you you’re trying too hard?” I shoot him a look. “And you’re wasting your time?”
“What if I told you you’re all I think about every fucking minute of every fucking day.” His words send a hard stop to my heart, and suck the air from my lungs at the same time. “What if I told you I’ve been crazy about almost my entire life?”
“I’d tell you you’re full of shit. That you’re horny and you probably just need to get laid.”
“Why is it so hard for you to believe I like you?”
“Uh, let’s see …” I start rattling off all the horrible things he did to me growing up, counting off my fingers one by one.
But before I can finish, he pulls me close to him, and once again, all the air wooshes out of my lungs.
“I say this with the utmost respect.” He studies my lips. “Shut up, Stassi.”
With that, he kisses me, hard, pinning me back on the mattress. My body is lit, on fire, squirming beneath him as my head and my heart go to war.
I pull away, breathless, I say, “Now I really should go.”
He takes my wrists and fastens them over my head. “Are you sure?”
It’s a challenge. And he’s right. Arms and legs tangled, I don’t want to move from this spot at all. He feels too good pressed against me. Too right. I draw in a shaky breath as it hits home.
As much as I hate Alec, I’m still obsessed with him.
Every little part of him.
For almost as long as I can remember.
And now he’s gazing at me in a way that could almost make me believe he’s equally obsessed with me.
But his words have always been cheap and his actions have always been cruel. Falling for this again, believing he could be something he isn’t, is a gamble I can’t afford to take.
My breasts push against his chest, so close that his heartbeat is thudding against mine. He leans his head down and kisses me, soft and tender, his eyes begging me for permission. It’s something I didn’t expect from him.
“Fuck,” I whisper, completely melted and gasping from the unexpected tenderness of this moment.
I want him.
Really want him.
I want his hands in my hair and his mouth on my body and his cock so deep inside me it fills me to the hilt.
“Hm.” He ruins this moment with a grin of pure male pride, but it doesn’t matter. I’m too invested now. “So you do want this big, fat--”
“It’s your turn to shut up, Mansfield.” I lift my head to kiss him, hard.
He makes quick work of freeing me from my shirt, my bra, and my sweatpants before all but ripping off my panties. I race my fingers down his strong back, under his jeans, to the globes of his ass, kneading them. He growls into his kisses, then his mouth drops down, lower, lower, finding purchase on my breast. And all at once he’s licking and sucking my nipple, leaving me spasming and arching my back in pure delight. I scratch at his ass with my fingernails, pushing myself off the bed, meeting his open mouth. He stays like that for what seems like hours, just licking and kissing my breasts, cupping one and then the other, and the small fire in my belly starts to gather into a fiery inferno.
Then his mouth slowly trails downward, licking and nibbling to my navel. His rough cheeks are like sandpaper against my skin, but it’s an amazing friction. He slides off the bed then suddenly grabs my leg, lifting it up, positioning himself so that I can feel his breath on my clit. I let out an animal groan as his nose grazes the length of my seam and the warmth of his tongue follows.
“I love the way you taste,” he says, his breathy, hot whispers sending jolts of pleasure through me. “I can eat this all day.”
He nudges my thighs wider on the edge of the bed, spreading me open.
I toss my head back but make sure I never stop watching him as he relentlessly devours me. His eyes are locked on mine as he licks and sucks and teases and nibbles, the bottom half of his face buried in me.
Then the feeling starts to overpower me, and my belly quivers, and I can’t control myself. I writhe on the bed, arching and bucking in time to his tongue’s lapping. I coil my fingers in his thick hair and push his face into my sex. And just when I think it can’t get better, he slides a finger inside me.
And holy shit.
“Oh my god,” I moan. “Yes … right there … keep doing that …”
He slowly eases another finger into me, making me shudder uncontrollably. He slides them in and out in time to my thrusts against him, and all the while his mouth is nipping and nibbling on my clit.
I don’t want him to stop. I want release. I’m coming to the edge again, and I can’t back down now. I scream into the pillow, sobbing and arching and bucking against his face so violently I slide off the bed, and he catches me in his arms, holding me against it.
“Oh God, please...” I’m begging him. Please what? I don’t even know what I want from him. Just more of this.
Suddenly I’m exploding. Screaming and sobbing and falling to pieces, with his tongue buried deep inside me. He carries me over to oblivion, staying there to make sure I’m okay. Then he climbs up my shuddering body, the stubble around his mouth glistening with my juices. I’m blushing, hard and hot.
“Oh my God,” I murmur, my body still convulsing.
His hand slides between my legs, fingering my clit, and then slowly, he delves a finger into me. I gasp as a fever shoots through every one of my nerves. His finger slides slowly and rhythmically, in and out of me, making me moan and wriggle under his touch. His touch on my clit is gentle and soft and slow, circling surely so that now the wetness is coursing out of me. I feel an ache in my belly, something inside me, yearning to be filled.
He's going to do it again. Make me beg for the main attraction. For his big, fat cock inside me. I can’t take it.
“Alec. Please,” I beg him.
This time, though, he has mercy. I rest my weight on my elbows, watching him take his cock in his hand, rip the condom packet, slide it on, and guide himself between my legs. He pauses at my entrance and looks into my eyes, again asking silent permission. I nod, biting my lip in anticipation.
He covers me with his body, and suddenly I feel him sliding slowly into me, inch by inch, filling me.
“God,” he murmurs, voice strained and husky. His hands are gripping my hips. “You’re so incredible.”
And then he is flush against me, hips against hips. He’s huge, but he completes me, stretching me, and I feel him inside me, throbbing with his heartbeat. I let out a shuddery breath and savor the feeling of his hot skin totally against mine, blanketing me. I kiss the side of his face, salty with his sweat.
Pressure is building, an explosion just waiting to happen. Before it can, he releases his grip on my hips and pulls himself out. I feel the tip of his shaft at my entrance for a mere breath, and then he plunges inside, slowly and steadily.
I can’t help it. It rips a shriek from my mouth.
“Yes, yes, yes,” I cry out, not giving a damn if Mad or Joe or anyone else can hear me now. “Harder … don’t stop …”
“You like this,” he growls out, voice strained as I’m now lifting my hips off the bed, meeting his every thrust in a steadily hastening rhythm. We’re both covered in sweet sweat, and the friction is threatening to make us burst into flames. “Just admit you need this just as much as I do.”
I moan in pleasure as the feeling that started low in my belly is now radiating out, threatening to take over every inch of me. Now, I feel shameless. I want this to go on forever. The pressure between my thighs is now thundering through me, taking me to the very edge, and I know an explosion is coming.
He slows his thrusts, sliding in and out, testing the rhythm, getting even deeper. His chest slides against my hard nipples, and suddenly, I let out a cry. He’s found the right place, because the chaotic ecstasy is almost too much to take. I’m getting even hotter and closer with every plunge.
I hook my legs around his hips and he buries himself impossibly deep inside me. I’m frantic as I find myself building to the edge of that peak.
My entire body ripples with such intensity as I scream out his name and come with such force hard that I’m practically sobbing, even as I start to come down.
He must’ve been holding out on me because the second I find myself coming down, he plummets deep into me, holding me there, and I feel him pulsating inside me. He lets out a long, muffled groan into my hair, then whispers my name, his breath hot against my ear.
“Stassi,” he murmurs as the shuddering subsides, gazing dreamily into my eyes. He falls then, completely limp, into my arms. “You’re everything.”
I’ve been called a lot of things before, but never that.
Alec places a gentle kiss on my collarbone as I bask in his words. But as the heat of the moment slips away, it becomes more and more clear: I’ve done what I told myself I wouldn’t do again.
I’ve jumped without a net.
And I know better than anyone how hard the ground can be.
20
Alec
As cold as it is on this March day, it’s colder still, knowing I have to spend it at the Maine Medical Center. It’s already not my favorite place, because it’s a hospital. My place of work. It’s been even worse, though, because for another twenty-two hours, there’s no chance I’ll be seeing Stassi.
Three days.
That’s how long it’s been since we made love and she left my place like she couldn’t get out of there fast enough.
I don’t know how she does it. We live right next to each other, practically in each other’s business. I’ve seen that sex-addict roommate of hers, plenty of times, usually when she gets in her car and heads to work. I feel like an idiot, or a Pomeranian, every time I run to the front window, hoping to catch Stassi, only to be disappointed.
It’s like she’s like a ghost. Either she’s spending all of her time in her apartment, not making a sound, or she’s doing an expert job of avoiding me.
I strongly suspect it’s the last one.
Maybe I should be, too.
There’s no way I can face the Huttons now. The first time, I might have been able to chalk it up to a drunken accident, a lonely mistake. But twice? I all but pounced on the woman. Zero self-restraint. And it was incredible. But like everything else, actions have consequences.
Still, I can’t bring myself to regret a moment of the nights we’ve spent together. Every time I think about her, I only want more. The sex was phenomenal. I didn’t think it was possible to beat the first time, but somehow it was monumentally better the second time around.
And it wasn’t just hate sex.
I think there was a little bit of “like” in there, too.
Or maybe it was all in my mind.
Maybe I’m going crazy.
I must be, because even now, as I finish my rounds this evening, Stassi is all I can think about. Even though, at this moment, I’m positive she’s back to cursing my name.
I somehow make my way through the elderly woman with an acute respiratory infection and the man with chest pains. They’re standard cases, nothing I haven’t treated a hundred times before, so I order an echo for the man and instruct the nurses to pump the woman full of fluids. When I’m done, it’s miraculously time to head home.
My twenty-four-thousand-hour shift is finally over.
Tucking my white coat in my locker, I pull my phone out with the hope that Stassi might’ve finally decided to use the number I gave her.
She hasn’t. Of course she hasn’t.
Instead, there’s a message from Cooper.
I grit my teeth for a second, thinking, She told him. But then I open it.
It’s just an invitation.
Cooper: Hey, brother, we’re going out for lobster tomorrow. You want in?
Brother. It was great catching up with them during dinner, and I felt welcome, like part of the family. But now, I don’t feel like their brother anymore.
I feel like a traitor.
How am I supposed to show up with a straight face and act like I didn’t just screw their little sister … twice?
Still, going out with old friends, cracking some beers, talking about the old times might be exactly what I need to take my mind off her. Otherwise, I’m probably going to do something stupid. Try too hard, again. Kiss her ass. Be that pathetic Pomeranian. And push her even farther away in the process.
Alec: Sounds good.
When I get home, her apartment is dark. It’s after nine. I wonder if she’s still at Ted’s, getting ready to close up.
If she is, I’m not going to make the mistake of going in there so she can ignore me—or, even worse, sic Markie the Italian bulldog on me. There’s no doubt that lady does not like me. She practically bit my ass, chasing me out the door, a couple weeks ago.
I stare at Stassi’s place, and then at my own. I guess it’s going to be the same way it’s been, the past two nights without her—me, getting drunk on the balcony, waiting for her to come by and bless me the way she did the other night.
It’s almost too much to take.
So I reach into the center console, grab a pad and pen, and scribble a note.
Maybe the only way we can communicate right now is through some hot, dirty sex. And if that’s all she’s willing to give me right now, that’s fine by me.
21
Stassi
